Dusk is a Celtic thin space time of day, a place of transcendence where heaven appears to touch earth and light fades gently, giving off a luminous quality that feels almost tangible. It’s the real twilight zone that offers us a needful break and breathing space between activity and rest.
Piercing daylight, as it turns to softer shades of muted pink, faded gold, indigo and silvery grey, is where we see light before it vanishes, swallowed into depths of night. The last golden glow we glimpse in a day is a visible reminder of God’s continual presence with us, despite darkness encroaching and seemingly covering up the light we had.
luminous
all is luminous
in this liminal space where
dusk’s soft light appears
©joylenton
Poetry Joy 
Dear Joy,
This is so beautiful!! Yesterday Gayl wrote a precious poem about evening that I read before bedtime, now today I have one from you to read this evening! I feel so blessed to be getting to read the beauty that God is pouring out through His poets! Thank you for sharing your heart, my dear friend! Love and Hugs to you this day. xoxo
Dear Bettie, I am awed by God’s timing! He inspires us at just the right time to write and share our words, and He ensures those who need to read and receive them do so when it is best for them. How good is that!! I’m grateful for the beauty God is pouring into us and out to you. Thank you so much for reading and responding as you do. It lifts my spirit to see you here, never mind read your words! Blessings, love and hugs to you, sweet friend. xoxo
I love your definition of dusk and your beautiful offering today, friend. Sometimes the “dusk” turns pink and I call it the gloaming. I think I read that in a Celtic or Scottish book somewhere 🙂
June, I love that you call dusk “gloaming” as the word does indeed stem from Scotland. We still have a few distant family members who live there on a small, remote island called Gigha, which is off the west coast of Kintyre. Here’s a snippet from the Merriam-Webster dictionary about gloaming:
“In the early 1800s, English speakers looked to Scotland again and borrowed the now-archaic verb gloam, meaning ‘to become twilight’ or “to grow dark.”
I think I will try to revive it in my conversation and poetic expression! Thank you for reminding me of it. xo 😊
I love that you wrote about liminal space!
Tara, I never grow tired of reading, thinking or writing about liminal space, which I perceive as a hushed Holy presence making itself felt in our midst. xo 😊
Reblogged this on Pastor Michael Moore's Blog and commented:
A beautiful reflection…
Dusk and the twilight hour always seem to stir deep feeling in me. It’s as if earth holds its breath and we do too, marking a holy pause in our day. At least that’s how it strikes me if I am aware enough to capture a sense of what’s going on out of the window! Michael, thank you so much for sharing these words with your readers. Bless you, my friend! 😊